


Stormy Weather (Keeps raining all the time)

by Brain_Brainson



Series: DFD Prompt Fills [6]
Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Idiots in Love, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Sharing a Bed, That's it, and Diego comforts him, like Luther's scared of thunderstorms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-06
Updated: 2019-10-06
Packaged: 2020-11-26 01:24:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20921870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brain_Brainson/pseuds/Brain_Brainson
Summary: “What is it, Luther?” Diego repeats, softer this time.Luther sighs, shuffles further into the room.“Can I-, Can I stay here for a while?”





	Stormy Weather (Keeps raining all the time)

**Author's Note:**

> LUEGO
> 
> The prompt today was 'Luther/Diego - Haunted House OR Safe Haven' and I went with the Safe Haven one. This was loads of fun and this is really my fave ship to write - probably the reason why this is the longest fill so far. 
> 
> Have fun reading! Shout Out to all my Luego shippers who are as thirsty for content as I am.

Rain is splattering against Diego’s window, an angry staccato of drops hitting the glass. He can hear the wind whistling, strong enough it moves the branches of the tree in the backyard. 

And of course the thunder, rolling closer every other minute, low rumbles followed by lightning, harsh light illuminating the whole room for a second. 

_ ‘It’s gonna pass directly over us,’  _ Diego thinks and then his mind flashes to Mum. Last time there’d been a storm she’d been….weird. Different. Like it had somehow messed with her programming. 

Maybe that’s why he can’t sleep, laying awake in his bed, wishing he could fiddle with one of his knives. But Dad took them, locked them in the safe in his studies. 

Diego could have them back once he learned not to defy his father anymore. 

_ 'Yeah. Like that’ll ever happen.' _

There’s sounds coming from the hallway, floorboards creaking as someone walks around. Maybe it’s one of the others, heading to the toilet. But it’s more probable that it’s Klaus, sneaking out for the third night in a row. 

If Diego were to stand up now, maybe he could catch him before he’s out the backdoor, could drag him back to bed where a 15-year old should belong. Not in some club, getting felt up by people way older than him. 

But Diego tried that already and it didn’t work, so why give a shit anymore? If Klaus wants to ruin himself, fine. 

He shifts, puts his back to the door. Tries to ignore the footsteps getting closer. They’ll pass. 

Except they don’t, stopping right in front of his door. Diego doesn’t move, keeps his eyes on his wall. What could Klaus possibly want? He sure as hell won’t come with him, he isn’t like Klaus. He can’t go on missions hungover, can’t let L-

Can’t let the people in danger down like that. 

There’s a hesitant knock on the door before it’s opened, just the slightest crack. Diego imagines Klaus poking his head through, checking whether Diego is awake. 

But the voice that speaks up isn’t Klaus’.

“Diego? Diego, are you up?” 

“What do you want, Luther? It’s the middle of the night.” It's hardly audible because of the thunder rumbling. Diego sits up, turns towards the door. 

Luther’s standing in the doorway, arms crossed, holding onto his elbows with his hands. He looks….scared. 

“What is it, Luther?” Diego repeats, softer this time. 

Luther sighs, shuffles further into the room. He keeps his head down, eyes on his bare feet. Stands there in the middle of the room, so far from the full-of-himself asshat Diego usually associates him with. 

“Can I-, Can I stay here for a while?” Luther’s voice is low, barely above a whisper and Diego has to strain his ears to hear him. 

Lightning strikes somewhere outside and Luther winces, sinks further into himself. Diego gasps. 

“You’re afraid of the rainstorm,” he says and there’s a thousand different thoughts running through his head. Big Number One, the  _ Leader _ , scared shitless by some rain and thunder. Diego could mock the hell out of that. 

He’s about to say something - something that’s bordering on being mean because somehow everything he says around Luther ends up way meaner than he intended it to be. But then he looks at Luther - really  _ looks  _ at him - and he swallows the words, pushes them down. 

Instead he scoots over, pats the side of his bed. “C’mere,” he says, tries to keep his voice soft. “Close the door first though.” No one has to find the two of them in bed together on the way to the toilet, cuddled up like little kids. 

_ ‘Who said anything about cuddling?’  _ A little voice in Diego’s head quibs. He ignores it. 

Obediently, Luther closes the door, then makes his way over to Diego’s bed. He sits down on the edge gingerly, arms still crossed. Doesn’t look at Diego. 

But Diego is looking at him, can make out the tear tracks on Luther’s face, even in the dim light of the room. He raises the blanket. 

“C’mon,” he says, motions for Luther to crawl under the blanket with him. Luther stares at him for a moment, bites his lip. Thinks. 

Diego’s about to make a comment about Luther coming to _ his _ room but Luther’s already moving, laying down next to Diego. 

There’s distance between them, Diego backed up until his shoulder is pressed against the wall. He doesn’t know what to do, what to say. He isn’t the best one at comforting people. 

Maybe Luther should’ve gone to Ben. Or to Allison. They always hang around each other anyway, not that Diego pays a lot of attention to that. Who cares about them making gooey eyes at each other?

The next time thunder strikes, it sounds a lot closer. Luther outright _ whimpers _ beside him and Diego’s heart starts hurting. He’s acting more on impulse than anything when he reaches out, searches for Luther’s hand under the blanket. Holds onto it tightly. 

“It’s okay,” he says, thinks about what Mum would say whenever Diego is scared. “It’s okay, I am here.” He squeezes Luther’s hand and Luther squeezes back, too tight for comfort but Diego bites his tongue. Lets him. 

“I’m scared, Diego,” Luther whispers and Diego thinks he’s crying again, voice watery and words a little garbled. 

If this were a normal situation, maybe Diego would point out that Luther isn’t a little kid anymore, that he shouldn’t be afraid of something as mundane as thunderstorms. Not when they fight bad guys with guns and no qualms about killing people every single day. 

But this isn’t a normal situation, far from it. The darkness makes it feel more intimate, more meaningful. Suddenly, Diego is nervous about fucking it up, about being so bad at comforting Luther he’ll crawl into someone else’s bed next time. 

…..Of course Diego doesn’t want there to be a next time though.

“Shh, there’s no need to be scared.” Diego rolls to the side. Tugs at Luther’s hand so he’ll look at him. “I’m here. I’ll keep you safe.”

He doesn’t know why, but the words make him blush, face warming up. But he doesn’t stop looking at Luther, smiles at him when Luther meets his eyes. He wants to push Luther’s hair back from his forehead, wants to wipe away the tears on his cheeks. 

But he doesn’t, keeps his free arm pressed to his side. 

“You promise?” Luther moves so they’re face to face. Diego is hyper aware of how close Luther is, joined hands pressed together between their bodies, but Luther doesn’t seem to mind so Diego tries not to either. Ignores his beating heart. 

“I promise.” It sounds a lot more sincere than Diego thought it would. Something complicated passes over Luther’s face and Diego holds his breath, waits for him to speak. 

Did he say too much? Did he somehow make it weird?

But then Luther’s smiling, the first smile since he walked through Diego’s door. Diego’s stomach flips, a funny feeling settling in his gut. 

“Okay,” Luther simply says. Closes his eyes. Presses their foreheads together. 

“Okay,” Diego repeats, voice shaky. 

They hold hands until the thunderstorm is over, Diego squeezing Luther’s hand every time lightning strikes. Luther pressing closer with every loud rumble of thunder, until Diego wraps his free arm around him, holds him close. 

Luther only leaves when the sun is already rising, light streaming in through the curtains and falling onto the bed. 

Diego watches him go, padding back to his room in Diego’s socks. 

_ ‘I hope there’s another thunderstorm soon,’  _ he thinks and immediately presses his hands over his face. 

* * *

The first time Diego sleeps in his old childhood bedroom after the near-apocalypse, it’s because it’s raining outside. Which normally wouldn’t bother him at all, what can a little rain do, but Mum had insisted on him staying over. 

“We don’t want you catching a cold, do we,” she’d said in her usual, airy tone and even after all these years, Diego would still do anything for his Mum.

So he’d stayed over for dinner, had endured Five’s smartass comments and Klaus’ quibs about his outfit - “How practical, you don’t have to change in case of a spontaneous Leather Pride Party.”

He’d even sat through Luther’s painful attempts at a conversation without snapping at him once, and when everyone had eaten dessert - Luther had eaten three helpings of it and Diego had bitten his lip hard enough it started bleeding a little - and the rain was still falling relentlessly, Diego had resigned himself to sleeping over. 

So there he is, laying on his bed, eyes on the ceiling, knife twisting around and around in his hand. 

The rain had been joined by thunder and lightning not long ago and Diego had forgotten to draw the blinds shut completely, light from outside - passing cars and streetlamps and the occasional flash of lightning - making it hard to get settled. 

He’s too lazy to get up and shut them though, in that weird state between being awake and sleeping, where your minds still working but your limbs feel heavy. 

Maybe that’s why he doesn’t register it at first when there’s a knock on the door, thoughts too scattered and mind far away. 

He’s back to himself though when the hinges creak, whoever’s outside pushing the door open slowly. 

Diego raises his hand, knife already in it, then realizes it can only be one of his siblings. He throws the knife anyway, just because. 

It lands next to Luther’s head, gets stuck in the doorframe and to his credit Luther doesn’t even flinch, ignores it all together. Diego should’ve aimed closer to his ear, make him hear the  _ swoosh _ of the knife flying past. 

Luther stands in the doorway, has to duck his head a little to fit in fully and Diego raises an eyebrow. “What do you want?”

“I...umm-” Luther fiddles with his fingers, looks down at the floor. “I just wanted to- you know, I just thought-”

“No way.” Diego’s voice is booming in the quiet of the night, his mouth open. “Don’t tell me you’re still afraid of thunderstorms, big guy.”

“I’m not,” Luther says, ever so stubborn. 

“Oh yeah?” Diego smirks at him. “Why are you here then?”

“I’m-” Luther stops himself, takes a deep breath. Shakes his head. “You know what? This was a bad idea.”

He turns around, reaches out to close the door again. 

“Wait!” Diego’s halfway out the bed before he can think better of it. “Come back here, Baby. I was only teasing.”

The pet name slips out just like that and Diego blushes, screams at himself in his head. 

_ ‘You’re scaring him off!’ _

(Klaus used to tell him he’s being too obvious. 

_ “I rile him up every opportunity I get?” _

Klaus had only grinned at him.  _ “Exactly”  _ ).

Luckily for Diego, Luther ignores the pet name. He looks back at Diego, hand still lingering on the door handle. 

Diego meets his eyes, tries his best to look earnest. “Come and sit.” He pats the spot next to him, sits back down himself. “And cl-”

“Close the door, yeah I know,” Luther says, but he does so, makes his way over to Diego’s bed. 

When he sits down, the bed dips considerably, nearly making Diego slide over, press up next to Luther’s thigh. He scoots away, puts some distance between them. 

“So…,” he starts, draws the word out. “Still don’t feel too hot about thunder and lightning?” He keeps his voice painfully light, tries his best to not sound like he’s making fun of Luther. 

Luther doesn’t answer. Diego panics only a little. “I mean, I get it,” he goes on, knocks his arm against Luther’s when he flails them around. “So much time on the moon, it must be hard getting used to the weather down here again. It’s only natural to be a little afraid at first-” 

“I never stopped being scared of thunderstorms, Diego,” Luther says and Diego falters. 

“Oh.” There’s a picture forming in Diego’s mind. Luther, all alone in this big old house, with his blanket pulled up to his ears as lightning strikes outside. It should be amusing but it just makes Diego’s stomach twist. 

“I see,” he says, voice flat. “Well, good thing I’m here then, right?” He nudges Luther’s shoulder - on purpose this time - and scoots back on the bed. 

Luther watches him move. “You coming or what?” Diego pulls the blanket from under Luther’s butt, wiggles under it. 

“I don’t think I’d fit-” - “Nonsense, you’ll just have to leave your huge ego on the floor.”

Luther snorts at that and Diego’s heart starts racing, pressing against his ribcage. He smiles, maybe a little too dopey. Hopes Luther doesn’t notice. 

Luther’s right; it’s a tight fit, both of them pressed together from shoulder to thigh. Diego’s pretty sure Luther’s other leg is dangling over the bed. 

“I have a better idea,” he murmurs, turns his head towards Luther. “Roll to the side.”

Luther does so, massive shoulders blocking the rest of the room from view. It’s only slightly better, Luther fully on the bed and Diego with some room to breathe. But now the blanket is slipping away leaving Diego’s naked chest out in the open. 

Luther’s eyes flicker down for a second before he looks to Diego. It looks like he’s blushing but maybe Diego is seeing things, projecting. 

“Uh,” Luther says, paws at the blanket to cover Diego again. Manages to push some of it back onto Diego’s chest but it slips away again when Luther leans back. “Umm.”

“For fuck’s sake.” Diego reaches up, tugs Luther’s head down so it’s resting on Diego’s chest. Tries his hardest to keep his breathing even, to get his heart to stop trying to beat out of his chest. 

“Oh, okay.” Luther’s cheek moves against Diego’s chest as he’s talking and Diego shivers. He waits for Luther to back away, to shake off Diego’s hand wrapped around his neck lightly. 

But Luther doesn’t, only scoots a little closer, stomach pressed against Diego’s side. He’s wearing a shirt and Diego’s thankful for that, not sure how he would’ve survived Luther in his bed, only in boxer shorts. 

(His mind wanders to Luther in his bed in less than boxer shorts, but he shakes the thought quickly. Not the time). 

Luther reaches over, spreads the blanket over the both of them, easier now that they’re so close. Pauses for a second, arm raised, before he settles, lowers it onto Diego’s stomach slowly, carefully. 

Diego stays as still as possible, holds his breath as Luther’s fingertips brush up his side. Luther only stops when his hand is on the same level as his face, thumb close to Diego’s nipple. 

Diego tries not to think about it, cards his fingers through Luther’s hair slowly. The thunder seems far away now, the storm moving on. The only noises filling out the room are their even breaths, the sound of shuffling when Luther moves his legs. 

_ ‘I could fall asleep like this,’ _ Diego realizes. He looks down, at the top Luther’s head. There’s warmth spreading in his stomach and he is tempted to tug at Luther’s hair, just a little. Just enough so Luther would look up at him, then he could- 

He isn’t sure what he would do then, if having Luther that close wouldn’t make him freeze up. 

Diego settles more into his pillow, eyes flickering to the ceiling. Luther moves on top of him, stubble rubbing against Diego’s skin. 

“Hey Luther,” Diego says into the quiet of the room. It's still bathed in the warm light of the lamp posts but Diego finds he barely minds it now. 

“Why did you…., Why did you always come to me? You know, why not someone else?” 

Allison may not live here anymore but there’s still Five. And Klaus occasionally. Both of them have a less rocky relationship with Luther than he does, and Five had been missing for over 16 years. 

And still, Luther is in  _ his _ bed right now, snuggled up to  _ him _ , close to drifting off. 

“Luther?” Diego squeezes his neck, drags his fingertips over Luther’s shoulder. “Baby?”

(He tries to tell himself it’s another slip-up but who is he kidding, really. He doesn’t care though, not right now). 

Luther shifts, clearly already halfway asleep. “You’re safe,” he mumbles, lips pressed against Diego’s chest. Diego’s breath hitches. 

“You said s’yourself.”

Diego thinks about his promise. He didn’t do a good job keeping it so far, not with Luther’s body being what it is. He thinks about how alone Luther must’ve been. Maybe he slept in Diego’s bed during thunderstorms, wishing he was there? 

“I’ll sleep over more often,” Diego says, firm. Another promise. “Okay, Baby?”

But Luther’s already sleeping, lightly snoring, face against Diego’s chest, holding onto him tightly with one arm. Diego presses a kiss on top of Luther’s head, closes his eyes too. They’re heavy and his pillow feels like heaven. He’s so tired. 

He’ll tell Luther tomorrow. Tell him everything.

_ ‘Maybe even that I lo-’ _

But he’s asleep before he can think that one through.  


  
  


**Author's Note:**

> What can I say, the only Diego I can write is the one that's soft for Luther. 
> 
> See ya tomorrow or over on tumblr (@b-rainlet). I am known for talking loads of Luego.


End file.
